


I'm Still Here

by Evil Teddy Bear (TheDragonRider)



Series: Of Sunny Days and Starry Nights [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Gen, I WILL GO DOWN WITH IT THOUGH, I spent 25k of my nanowrimo novel just writing about these dorks, I'm supposed to be studying for finals, Reveal, aggggh, annngsssst, kiss meme, my entire november..., oh my goodness, someone send help, the lovely square, this is the most bizarre ship I've ever seen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5337785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragonRider/pseuds/Evil%20Teddy%20Bear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m scared,” she says. I’m scared to kiss him; scared he might not be real. “I’m still here.” he reassures her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Still Here

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #24: “return from the dead” kiss   
> Title: I’m Still Here   
> Summary: “I’m scared,” she says. I’m scared to kiss him; scared he might not be real. “I’m still here.” he reassures her.   
> Pairing: Ladynoir/Adrinette   
> Word Count: 3094  
> A/N: …Oops. A little more than a drabble. xD Once I started (at 6 AM no less), I couldn’t stop. >.

 

 **“Chat!** Chat,  _don’t you dare die on me you—_ ”

Tears dripped against the pavement as Marinette forced her cold, trembling fingers to rip the fabric of one of the t-shirts she had just finished sewing earlier that day into half. His blood coated her hands – too sticky, too warm – and she felt physically ill, like she was going to vomit. Her mouth was dry and her mind was a mess because  _he was literally bleeding to death_ and she didn’t know what to do. She put the cloth down on the wound, the wail of sirens in the distance.  _Come on,_ she wanted to yell at them,  _Why are you so damn slow?!_

“Chat, I swear to God, if you die on me now—” her words were tripping over one another, her tongue twisting so badly that she couldn’t even finish the threat. Her stomach flipped over and she tasted bitter bile. She swallowed it back, grimacing. Her throat felt like it was on fire, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t—he couldn’t –

“Come on, you stupid cat.” She growled. “Wake up so I can smack you.”

She placed her fingers on the side of his neck, trying, and failing, to find his pulse. Her breathing became uneven.  _Non non non non non! Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die—I won’t forgive you if you die—this wasn’t supposed to happen –_

“Can I help you?” A woman asked, her eyes wide and frightened. She began to shake her head, but then she nodded. Except she didn’t know how she could help. Her mind was in a mess and the basic first aid training she had from school wasn’t working; she couldn’t remember any of it really anymore –

The paramedics swerved around the corner, and before it had even braked completely, the doors were opening and people were jumping out of the sides and the back.

_Please don’t die please don’t die don’t die don’t—_

The paramedics pushed her out of the way, swarming around him and blocking her view of him. Her heart jumped into her throat and her head began to spin again and she was pretty sure her breathing was becoming uneven –

A hand. On her shoulder.

“Ladybug? He’s going to be okay. Don’t worry – he always is.”

Alya’s brown eyes were big and concerned, and she sobbed and flung her arms around her best friend, forgetting in that moment that she was Ladybug, and not Marinette. Alya stiffened, before her hands patted her back tentatively. She broke down.

“It’s all my fault, Alya. I should’ve been paying more attention or—or—something and now he’s hurt and—I don’t even know how it happened and I just—”

“Hey, stop.” She pulled away, but kept her hands on her shoulders. “It’s not your fault. Chat Noir knew what he was doing – don’t shake your head at me, you know it’s true. Besides, what is done, is done.”

Suddenly, the final beep of her transformation sounded through the air, and Ladybug’s façade slid away. Alya’s eyes went wide for a split second, and Marinette’s breathing picked up because—she knew,  _she knew. Who knows how many other people are here – Chat Noir’s will be revealed!_

Her arms suddenly pull her down again. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry. He’ll be fine.”

She clutched the back of her shirt and nodded. Tears collected in her eyes, but she pulled away. She had to see him again – she was already nervous about letting him out of her sight for so long. She had to see him, if she didn’t –

Alya takes her hand and pulls her toward the swarm of paramedics, successfully weaving them through the crowd of spectators. She can hear more sirens shrieking, and she knows that the police are probably coming—perhaps then Chat’s identity won’t be revealed…

“Miss, you can’t come any closer.” A young man said, more of a youth than a man really. Her glare snapped toward him, and he shivered. “I’m sorry, Miss.”

“I—he’s my partner,  _one of my best friends._ I have to—”

The man’s eyes are compassionate, but firm. He put his hand on her shoulder. “I wish I could let you see him, but rules are rules, no matter who it is.”

She nodded weakly, and Alya rubbed her back. Her voice was soft as she said, “Can you tell us if he’s going to be all right?”

The paramedic shook his head. “He’s in real bad shape, ma’am. The chance of his survival is lower than fifty percent.”

The world swayed, and the only thing that kept her upright was Alya’s hand firmly supporting her. Her voice floated around her ears as she led them away from the paramedics, murmuring, “Let’s find a place to sit,” and “Come on, Marinette; we should stay out of their way.” But she had to  _see_ him again, had to make sure he was all right—

“Marinette, breathe.”

She nodded weakly as she slid to the ground. She tried to breathe in deep and release it, but she just—she just couldn’t, and tears were in his eyes again and she just—

“It’s all my fault,” she whispered. “He was protecting  _me_ because I slipped on an oil puddle and I couldn’t get out of the way in the time, and then I had to purify the akuma and, oh  _God,_ there was  _so much blood_ and it was so red and—and—”

Alya hugged her, and she sobbed against her shoulder. She wanted her mom, or dad, or better yet, both of them. But they weren’t here and she was  _so scared—_

“Are you Ladybug?”

She pulled away from Alya and looked at the officer in blue, wiping her eyes. He was younger than Sabrina’s dad by quite a few years, but he was older than the paramedic. Out of habit, she began to shake her head before she realized—yeah, they knew who she was now. And she nodded. The cop looked uncomfortable.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked. She bit her lip before she nodded slowly, hesitantly. She stood up, just to make herself feel less powerless even though her legs felt like Jell-O, about to collapse at any moment.

“I… we were fighting Glacier when I slid on an oil spot on the road and slipped onto the ice. I-I wasn’t able to get out of the way in time; the ice was so slippery and I’ve always been a bit of a klutz… C-Chat jumped in front of me and took Glacier’s icicle. I-I can’t remember much after that. There was so much blood…” She shuddered and closed her eyes. She looked up at him pleading, “Please, can I see him?”

She felt pathetic; not even like Marinette, but she couldn’t stop herself and she was just so scared… The officer shook his head.

“I can’t give you permission, miss. I’m real sorry.”

She nodded. “O-okay.”

A little later, the same paramedic she had talked to earlier walked up to her and Alya.

“I had to get clearance from the big boss, but you can come on.”

Relief rushed through her veins as she nodded. When she looked back at Alya, she looked concerned, but she nodded and smiled at her, so Marinette followed the paramedic. “ _Merci,_ ” she murmured. He nodded at her, and she leapt into the ambulance.

And saw him.

_Adrien._

_Adrien is Chat Noir._

* * *

One of the worst things about hospitals, Marionette realized, was the waiting for information.

Nino came in before her parents did, looking around frantically before his gaze landed on her and Alya. He rushed over to them, looking frantic. She hugged her knees to her chest.

“Marinette… Are you hurt?” She shook her head mutely, and Nino let out a sigh of relief. “Any news on Cha—A-Adrien?”

She shook her head again. “All they’re saying is that he’s in surgery.”

Nino sighed, and began to say something, but she didn’t hear him. 

Her parents had entered the building and like magnetic, their gazes locked. They stared at her, as if they were pleading with her to tell them it wasn’t true, that she wasn’t Ladybug, but she just stared at them. Tears were gathering in her eyes again; everything was so different now. They knew who she was now. They knew about Ladybug. Chat Noir was Adrien; Adrien was Chat Noir.  _Oooh,_ she was going to be in  _so much trouble._

Suddenly, her mom was in front of her, hands on her shoulders and looking over her up and down. “Marinette? Is it true? Are you really…?” Then she shook her head, as if deciding something. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “I’m not hurt. C-Chat protected me.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes, and then her mom’s arms were wrapped around her, squeezing her tight to her chest. She shuddered and gasped, then she surrendered and let them cascade down her cheeks. Her dad engulfed her other side, like they were a sandwich and she was in the middle.

She sobbed.

* * *

At 4:33 PM, the doctor came into the waiting room. The blank look on his face made her stomach sink to her toes and she bit her lip as she stood up. Alya and Nino stopped playing their game of thumb war, but they remained seated.

“Is he—how is he?” She whispered, hoping against hope that it was good news. Because if he was dead…  _no,_ how could she think that?!

“He’s slipped into a coma.”

The world spun on its axis, doing a one-eighty on her.

“We have him on life support for now … his chance of survival is low… twenty-five percent…”

Her stomach flipped, and she bolted for the restroom. She wasn’t sure how she was able to get there fast enough, though she was sure it involved shoving a few people out of the way, but she managed to throw herself in front of one of the ( _smelly)_ toilets just in time to empty the contents of her stomach. She gagged over the smell of vomit and waste as she flushed the toilet and sobbed.

_I’ve killed him, I’ve killed him, I’ve killed him—_

Her mom’s hand was on her back, rubbing soothing circles and her body shook.

“Do you want some water, sweetie?” She asked. She managed to nod,  _anything to get her out of here,_ because that was the only thing she had the energy to do.

_don’t take him away from me, God. Please don’t take him away from me…_

* * *

A day passed. And then another, and another, and then a week. Adrien’s father had visited once some time midway into the week, though she hadn’t been there—she only knew because Alya had told her. Marinette stayed until the nurses kicked her out, and she was there first thing in the morning. She knew her mom and dad were worried, and probably Nino and Alya too, but she just… she couldn’t stop herself. She had to be there when he woke up. If he woke up.

And the guilt… it was literally eating her up. She could barely keep anything down, and she was pretty sure she looked exhausted. Tikki had had to force her to sleep a few times when her mind wouldn’t let her.

 _My head’s so full it feels like it’s going to burst…_ she thought as she opened the door to his room in the critical care unit. She rubbed her face as she slipped into the semi-darkness and flipped on the light.

Chat—Adrien—was hooked up to the oxygen tank, the monitor beeping with his heart rate. He might be in a coma, but he was alive—at least, for now.

Somehow, tears slipped out of her eyes again, even though she had cried so much the last week that she’d thought she had no more tears to cry, and she sat down on the edge of the bed. She took his warm hand in hers and closed her eyes.

“If you die, stupid cat, I’ll never forgive you.” She whispered.

There was silence, which she still wasn’t used to – Chat always had a flirty remark and a smirk on the tip of his tongue, Adrien always had a smile and polite words.  There were two completely different personalities in the same person; two different personalities that she both adored and despised at the same time for different reasons.

“Princess?” She jumped back like a startled cat, letting go of his hand as if it had burned. Adrien’s eyes slowly opened, his eyebrows furrowing together. “What—where—?

_He’s awake he’s awake he’s alive he’s not going to die he’s okay he’ll be okay he’s going to be fine he’s still that annoying cat he’s—_

She flung herself at him, ignoring the strangled gasp that came out of his throat, and squeezed him so hard that she was honestly surprised he didn’t complain. And then his arms rose and wrapped around her waist and back, and he hugged her back just as tight. Tears bubbled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks, but she smiled widely and pulled away.

“Marinette? What— Why am I in the hospital? Is Ladybug okay?”

She laughed, or maybe she sobbed. “Stupid, idiotic, moronic kitty cat.” She complained. “I’m fine—you’re the one who nearly died!”

“You… you’re Ladybug?” And then there was that helpless puppy expression on his face. “I don’t understand… What’s going on? Are you hurt?” His hands drifted up her sides and down her arms, looking for nonexistent injuries, and she laughed.She was sure it sounded a little hysterical to him.

“I’m fine! You threw yourself in front of me and—and— _I thought you were dead_ and I just—you just—don’t  _do_ that again _!_ ” Her voice rose to a shriek, and he raised an eyebrow, a slow going on his lips.

“You  _do_ care.”

“Chat, answer me seriously!” She took him by the shoulders, wishing she could shake the stupidity out of him but knowing that he still wasn’t recovered from his injury enough. Not nearly. “You could have died.  _I thought you had died._ If you had… I can’t… you can’t…”

His eyes softened slightly and he cupped the back of her head. “My lady…” He smiled slightly. “If I hadn’t taken that for you, you  _would_ have died. I know it’s selfish, but I just… I can’t let you die. If I die myself, then so be it. Besides, you would’ve done the same for me, would you?”

She blinked, “Of course I would, but…”

“Then nothing else to say. You’re my partner, and my friend, and  _so much more_ than just that.”

Her heart stopped racing so fast, and she felt like an invisible weight had been lifted off of her chest. She shoulders sagged… and then she sobbed. Again.

_He’s alive. He’s not dead. He’s going to stay alive. He’s not going to die._

He rubbed the palm of his  _warm_ hand over her cheek, his green eyes so concerned, as if  _she_ was the one hurt and he wasn’t—“I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

That was when she cupped his cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. She’d almost lost him— _she thought he was going to die_ and she was so  _done_ with not kissing him or showing him affection. Life was too short to stir unnecessary drama, especially when they were  _one and the same person._

But… she didn’t press their lips together. There was still that hesitation, that  _this is too good to be true._ What if she woke up and this was a dream? What if he didn’t want her to kiss him? What if he didn’t like her anymore?

“My lady?” His voice was soft, and a little nervous. She closed her eyes.

“I really want to kiss you.” She confessed in a rush, before she could lose her nerve. “But…”

“But?”

She smiled a little wryly and opened her eyes. His eyes were already open. “I’m scared.”

He tilted his head, and she shivered. “Why?” he asked, barely louder than a whisper. She closed her eyes.

“I’m scared this is a dream, and I’ll wake up in my bed, and you’re still in a coma.” Her stomach twisted into knots at the thought. His hand on her shoulder was so warm, and so real, and she so  _desperately_ wanted this to be real… but if it wasn’t… how could she risk it?

His lips pressed against hers softly then, and she stilled. Her heart hammered against her chest, partially because she  _was_ kissing the boy she had a crush on for years, but mostly because  _she wasn’t waking up._

He pulled away. “I’m still here.” He murmured, and she opened her eyes again. His cheeks were a faint pink color, but his gaze was steady and clear and focused. “I’m still here, my lady.”

“I…”

And then he was kissing her again, and she was kissing him. His fingers wove into her hair and she grabbed the front of his hospital gown, her heart hammering erratically against her chest. She stopped thinking. All she could smell was him, hospital and something distinctively cat-like and earthy, and she felt tears slip out of her eyes. He sat up, his arm tightening around her waist and her fingers were probably tangling in his hair, but he was  _alive_ and not dead and—

He pulled away, and she whined softly. “I’m still here.” He repeated.

She shook her head and brought him back to her, touching his lips hesitantly before she slid her mouth over his, climbing onto the bed into a more comfortable position. She was sure she was crying, but she didn’t care as she kissed him, becoming more and more frenzied. Because he’d almost died, and he was alive and he was  _still here_ and she’d almost lost him—

And then their lips stopped moving together so harshly, so desperately, slowing down to a gradual standstill. She pulled away a little, just enough so that she could breathe, though she still pressed her forehead against his. He was still solid. She could still feel him against her, panting as he tried to catch his breath.

“I’m still here, my lady.”

A few more tears slipped out of her eyes as she dropped her head into the crook of his neck and kissed him there too. “I know,” she whispered. “I know, stupid cat.”


End file.
